Time Crunch Read online

  “Our special today is spinach fettuccine. But we’ve also got beef ravioli, beef tacos, and Treeck’s personal favorite, beef chili with corn bread.”

  “Well, I’ve always enjoyed a good spinach fettuccine”—

  Chase scrunched his nose, doubting his friend had ever even tasted fettuccine.

  “—but—”

  “I think I’d go for the fish,” Chase said, cutting in. “I mean, it’s all getting old, but going fishing would give us something to do. But … I’m good either way.”

  “Treeck?”

  “What fish options we got?” Treeck replied, mimicking Zach’s question.

  That’s almost another joke, Chase thought in amazement.

  Bridger didn’t miss a blink: “Two kinds: wet and slimy.”

  “I’ve always enjoyed a good slimy fish.”

  “Oh-kay,” Bridger said with the air of a server at a five-star restaurant. “That okay with you, Zach?”

  “You bet.”

  “All right. Round us up a coupla spears and let’s go fishing.”

  AS CHASE, ZACH, and Bridger speared fish (they each handed Smith an energy bar to hold as a prize for whomever got the biggest), Smith and Treeck stood guard.

  A couple of pterosaurs circled around for a moment—possibly attracted by the scent of fish—and several two-legged, chicken-sized dinosaurs came out of the trees to watch, hoping for a snack.

  Almost look like baby allosaurs, Chase thought.

  The little things chirped and hooted noisily, and when Chase speared a repulsive-looking fish he thought would taste even nastier than it looked, he tossed it over.

  The toy-sized predators pounced upon the bizarre fish, chattering like monkeys as they fought for a piece of the prize.

  “Heads up,” Treeck warned a few minutes later. When everyone looked, he gestured to where a five-foot theropod was watching from just inside the trees.

  Another see-low, Chase thought. Might even be the one that tried to eat my boot!

  Smith and Treeck tightened their grip on their rifles, but the dinosaur seemed content to watch from a distance, possibly wary of being outnumbered.

  “Might have friends,” Smith warned unnecessarily.

  Treeck nodded, already scanning the surrounding trees.

  A few minutes later, Smith said, “Treeck …”

  Chase recognized the tone in the man’s voice and looked around. The tiny creatures and their larger cousin had vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. A moment later he caught a sour smell in the air: an odor like rotting garbage.

  Smith and Treeck had both hands on their weapons now and Bridger—without being told—dropped his spear and picked up his rifle. Chase and Zach stopped fishing and began scanning the trees.

  It might have been his imagination, but Chase felt the hair rising on the back of his neck, certain he could feel something approaching.

  Could feel it as certainly as he felt the sun on his back.

  And it’s not a camarasaur, or an apatosaur, or anything friendly.

  He couldn’t say why, but sensed the unseen animal was something dangerous.

  Something threatening.

  Something that could snap me up and swallow me whole.

  Looking around, he could tell everyone else felt the same thing. Bridger’s happy-go-lucky grin was gone, replaced by a grim scowl. Zach, too, was scanning the trees as seriously as a detective searching for clues.

  For several long moments, nothing happened, then—

  Something moved in the brush.

  Chase snapped his head around, looking hard—

  One of the little toy dinosaurs hopped from the brush. It chirped, then snapped up a passing bug. A second toy dinosaur instantly appeared, rushing over and nosing through the dirt as if hoping another bug might be there.

  Chase reached out with his senses, but … the feeling of danger had passed.

  Smith and Treeck exchanged glances. They, too, seemed to sense the change, but nevertheless remained alert.

  It’s gone, Chase thought. Whatever it was came, checked us out, and left just as silently.

  “Well, hey,” Bridger called out, back to his normal, jovial self. “Think we’ve got enough to eat here?”

  “Got plenty,” Zach quipped, “as long as you can hold yourself to four fish or less.”

  “Hey … I resemble that remark!”

  They quickly measured their fish: Chase had a whopper he was certain would win, but Zach’s best was a quarter-inch longer.

  “Man,” Chase griped as Zach collected his prizes. “I really wanted those energy bars …”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Zach said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve had more experience.”

  Back at camp, Chase and Zach restarted the fire (though he now had a butane lighter in his pocket, Zach used flint and steel, just to show off), and again cleaned and cooked the fish.

  “Gotta make sure we burn everything we don’t use,” Zach reminded everyone. “Don’t want those critters from the stream to come snooping around.”

  “Got that right.” Chase thought for a moment, then said: “It’s too bad we don’t have any fuel from the jet. Spreading a little of that around might repel things. Keep ’em outta camp.”

  “Huh. You’re probably right. But I’m surprised that bonfires don’t do the trick.”

  “Yeah. Still don’t get that one.”

  WHEN THE FISH were done—browned nicely with only a little charring—Zach took enough for two to Bridger, who was on guard duty, and helped keep watch as they ate.

  “You make a good campfire cook,” Treeck told Chase, picking bones from a piece of fish. “Don’t usually like fish, but this isn’t half bad.”

  “It’s no harder than roasting hot dogs,” Chase said. “Just hold it over the fire ’til it looks good. But if you ever see me making meatloaf or some kind of casserole, you’re better off hunkering down with a stale MRE.”

  He shuddered.

  “Unless it’s beef chili, ’course. They’re nasty.” He chewed on a piece of fish. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever eaten?”

  “Oh, wow.”

  Treeck pulled a face as he thought it over: he’d apparently had enough bad meals he had trouble narrowing it down.

  “I’ve eaten eel a couple times,” he said after a moment. “A few bugs, rodents, coupla snakes.”

  “Yuck …”

  “And more than once, had to eat ’em raw.”

  “Ewwww.” Chase put down the piece of fish he was about to eat, the thought of raw snake destroying his appetite. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

  He looked at his fish with distaste, but remembered Treeck telling him to eat and drink every chance he got and forced down another bite.

  “Gonna feel a lot easier being here tonight,” Treeck said to Smith.

  “Roger that.”

  “When we were fishing,” Chase said tentatively, “I sensed something watching us from the trees. Something big.”

  Treeck nodded, though he didn’t seem concerned. Chase wasn’t certain if he really wasn’t worried, or if he was merely acting calm for Chase’s benefit.

  “I felt it, too,” the man finally said. “There was definitely something there … checking us out.”

  “You worried about it coming back?”

  “Well, we can’t rule it out. Animals here don’t behave like any I’ve ever run into. But if I had to bet on it”—he shook his head—“I’d say probably not. It came, checked us out, got a look at that blistered face of yours, and likely lost its appetite.”

  Chase grinned—

  The man was making another joke!

  —then reached up and touched his cheek. He’d forgotten all about the rash and blisters.

  “Still doesn’t hurt?” Smith asked.

  “Not at all.”

  Smith and Treeck looked a little more closely, and Chase squirmed, uncomfortable being the subject of scrutiny.

  “Can swear to it,” Treeck
said after a moment. “But I’d say it’s looking a little better.”

  “Think you’re right,” Smith opined. “Not quite so red, and I do believe the blisters are going down.”

  “Too bad,” Treeck went on. “I kinda like him this way.”

  “Probably the best dinosaur repellent we’ve got …”

  “Okay,” Chase said, putting down his fish. “I’ve been trying to get you guys to smile for two days. And now you’re cracking jokes like headliners on the Comedy Hour, but you still won’t crack a grin!”

  Smith and Treeck exchanged glances.

  “What’s he talking about?” Treeck asked. “I smile all the time.”

  “I smile so much I’ve gotta pick the bugs outta my teeth at night …”

  The two looked at Chase with expressions that could have been chipped from granite.

  “Jeez!” Chase snapped. He viciously ripped away a chunk of fish with his teeth and began chewing it down. “You wait,” he said. “Before we get home, I’m gonna make you laugh. Write it down, ’cause I’m gonna do it.”

  He chewed on his fish, suddenly feeling good. He’d just mentioned getting home. And he hadn’t meant if, but when.

  24 Midnight Watch

  “WHAT’CHA THINK about a fire tonight?” Smith asked.

  “Ah, believe I’d say no,” Treeck responded. “Animals don’t seem afraid of ’em, so they’ve got no protective value. And they kill your night vision.”

  Smith nodded. “Think we need more than one man on guard?”

  Treeck considered, then shook his head. “Camp doesn’t seem as … populated … as the last place. Or as exposed.”

  “I wish I knew what was watching us from the trees earlier,” Chase said. “Gave me the creeps, and it sure scared off all the little ones.”

  “That’s true,” Smith said.

  “Didn’t like the feel of it,” Treeck agreed. “But then again, it didn’t stay long; didn’t seem interested. Might have just been passing by.”

  Smith nodded.

  “Okay, then,” he said finally. “We’ll take three-hour shifts.”

  “You want me and Zach to help?” Chase asked. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t want either of us standing guard by ourselves. But we could team up with you guys. Help you keep watch, help you stay awake …”

  Smith glanced at Treeck, who shrugged.

  “You sure you want to do that?”

  “Hey, we’re all in this together,” Chase said. “And don’t want you guys doing all the work. I’d like to think I’m pulling my weight, and I’m sure Zach feels the same.”

  “You’re already pulling your weight,” Smith said. “More than you know.”

  “Still …”

  “If you want to stay up,” Smith said, clapping Chase on the shoulder, “you’re more than welcome.”

  SMITH SAID HE’D take the first watch. Treeck and Chase volunteered for the second, from approximately midnight to three, with Bridger and Zach taking over from three to six.

  Chase and Zach wiggled into their narrow crevasse a little later, no more comfortable than they’d been before.

  “No offense,” Zach said as they jostled around, trying to keep their knees and elbows from digging into one another. “But I really hoped we wouldn’t have to do this again.”

  “It’s only for three hours,” Chase said. He mashed himself against the rock, hoping to escape Zach’s hip, which was unusually sharp and bony. “And then you’ll have it all to yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, stuffed in here like a coupla sardines, three hours is gonna feel like ten.”

  Chase made a last, desperate attempt to make himself comfortable, then gave up. “Just try to relax. Make the best of it … and be glad we’re not sleeping out in the open.”

  “Yeah, yeah … you’ve got a point.

  Chase didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but he was more exhausted than he’d thought. And before he knew it—

  “CHASE?”

  Chase felt a tap on the bottom of his boot. “Mmmm?”

  “Chase?”

  He slowly crawled back to wakefulness. “Yeah …”

  Treeck’s gravelly voice: “I’m going on watch if you still want to come.”

  “Mmmm. Be right there.”

  It took Chase several minutes to extricate himself from the rocks without mashing Zach in the process, but eventually managed to crawl free.

  He took a moment to rub his eyes and stretch out a few kinks—

  Zach’s got, like, the pointiest elbows on the planet!

  —then found Treeck sitting on a rock close to where the cooking fire had been.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, kid. You sure you want to be up?”

  “Probably no more than you do.”

  “You’ve at least got the choice …”

  “Naw, not really. Feel stupid sleeping when you guys have to be up.” He pulled an old stump over so he could sit close to the man. “Anyway, thanks for waking me up.”

  “No problem. ’Preciate the company.”

  Chase turned his head, taking in the buzz of bugs, the croak of frogs, and the drone of crickets. There were also the usual hoots, moans, rustles, cheeps, crackles, and chirrups of the night. He’d heard somewhere that people who lived close to train tracks eventually became so accustomed to the roar of trains they were able to shut them out.

  Didn’t even notice them anymore.

  It’s like that here, he thought. You get so used to the sounds you just start blocking them out and don’t even hear them anymore.

  In addition to the sounds, there was a certain … fragrance … to the warm night air. There were the usual musty smells of mulch and decay and decomposing vegetation. But when he concentrated, he could also detect the scent of … lilac.

  It actually smells purple …

  “What’cha thinkin’ about?” Treeck asked.

  “What? Oh, nothing, really. I was just smelling the air and listening to the crickets. The crickets and the frogs and the bugs and whatever else is wandering around out there.”

  “Understand you’re a baseball player?”

  “You read my file, too?”

  “No, no. I heard Zach saying something to Bridger.”

  “Ah. My team played for the city championship this summer, but I broke my arm and couldn’t play.”

  “They win?”

  “Yeah. It was close—went to extra innings—but they pulled it off. Anyway, we’re just starting football now.”

  “What position do you play?”

  “I’ve got a good arm, so they put me in at QB sometimes when they need a long pass. But I usually play wide receiver and linebacker.”

  “Lotta fun, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. Keeps me busy. You play any ball?”

  “Fullback. Naval Academy.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “No … well, yeah, I guess. I don’t want to sound insulting, but you guys are so, um, macho. … You just don’t seem like academics.”

  “Got a masters in engineering. I’m also qualified to fly Learjets: got more than 1500 hours PIC—that means Pilot in Command—and I build helicopters in my spare time.”

  “Jeez, Louise …”

  Treeck made a sound like a cough, and Chase thought it might have been a primitive laugh.

  “We might look like a bunch of knuckle-draggers,” he said. “But Smith doesn’t hire anyone without a college degree, advanced training, a second language—mine’s Spanish—and expert-level experience in at least two specialties.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Makes sense if you think about it. You go into a place like this, you wanna surround yourself with the smartest, best-trained, most-skilled people you can find. People who can think and reason and not panic in an emergency.”

  “Never thought of it like that.” And then: “You really build helicopters?”

  “Little two seaters. I build one, fly it around f
or a couple months, then sell it and build another one.”

  “That’s awes—Wow! Did you just see that?”

  “What?”

  Chase pointed at the sky. “A shooting star! The brightest one I’ve ever—Wow! There’s another one! Did you see it?”

  “Sure did. Might be some sort of meteor shower.”

  They watched the sky, spotting several more shooting stars, more than Chase had ever seen. They talked idly as they watched: not about anything in particular. Music, sports, TV, movies … stuff like that.

  Chase thought spending three hours sitting around in the dark would be boring. But it seemed they’d only been there a short while before Treeck slapped him on the back and said: “Well, that’s it. We’re done.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Been three hours. … I’ll roust Bridger if you wanna get Zach.”

  “ ’Kay.”

  Chase started back for the rocks, but then turned. “Hey, Treeck?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. … I really had a good time hanging out with you.”

  “Yeah, me, too, kid. Me, too.”

  CHASE KICKED ZACH out of bed. His friend stumbled from the rocks like an arthritic zombie, but was back in less than a minute.

  “Where is he?”

  “Where’s who?” Chase muttered, already half asleep.

  “Bridger. Where is he?”

  “Probably down by the fire.”

  “I looked. He’s not there.”

  Probably taking a leak or something, Chase thought.

  Still …

  He crawled from the rocks and brushed himself off. Zach was pacing nervously, looking back and forth like a nervous parakeet.

  “Come on,” Chase said. “Let’s find him.”

  He led the way back to where he’d sat with Treeck, but Bridger was nowhere in sight. Chase glanced around. There was no moon, but the stars were bright enough to illuminate the clearing.

  And he wouldn’t go into the trees, Chase thought. Not alone and not at night.

  He hesitated, then called out in a low voice: “Bridger!”

  He listened carefully, then tried a little louder.

  “Bridger!”

  Nothing.

  “No, no, noooo,” Zach moaned, already fearing the worst.

  “Come on,” Chase said. “Let’s get Treeck.”